The snow fell down in large fluffy flakes. The wind blew harshly, and the sky was gray, gray like Christine's eyes. A deep gray that suggested mellowness, with a hint of sadness, but never a storm. She wrapped her scarf more tightly around her thin neck, and pulled her hat farther down to cover her ears. She wanted more than anything to be warm, cozy next to a blazing fire with a cup of hot chocolate, but instead she was on her way back to the Opera House to sing. Not to sing publicly of course, but to be coached. Her instructor says that her voice has much potential, but he also has be saying that since she was 8 years old.
Mr. Richelieu saw the frail girl climbing up the steps, trying not to let the wind push her over. When she finally made it up he held the door for her.
"Christine, you don't look well. You should go back home and get some sleep." He said as the teenager removed her scarf and hat.
"Oh thank you for your concern sir, but sleep doesn't cure my well being, only music does." She gave him a small smile, and wished him a good day. When she walked away Mr. Richelieu shook his head, and thought about how she was the sweetest, but quirkiest girl he had ever met.
Christine made her way past the stage, and past the box office. She past the old dormitories, and the new workshop. She made her way to the old door that lead to less-than-safe looking stairs, and made her way to the cellar. The cellar that hasn't been touched for over 300 years.
It was an odd place for vocal lessons, but every year she saw an improvement in her voice, and she could never skip out on a meeting with an angel.
"Christine, you are late." The soft, enchanting male voice boomed all around her. She sat down her belongings on the floor.
"I know, I'm sorry, but the weather is so treacherous. I-I made here as fast as I could. Please don't be mad Angel, I will never be late again." A chuckle came from the Angel's voice as he listened to her apology.
"How many times have you promised me that over the years Christine? And you should know dearest one that I could never be mad at you, not even for a moment."
Christine smiled. Even though she has never seen her tutor, she is very fond of him. He has been there through her toughest moments, especially those moments that involved the death of her father. It was her father that brought the Angel of Music to her after he passed away when she was 7 years old, and it has only been the Angel who understands and empathizes with her loneliness. She would be lost with out him.
"Christine, are you ready to begin?" He asked.
"Of course I am, I am always ready to sing for you Angel."
The young beauty had been gone for almost an hour, but Erik kept staring at the spot she stood. He could still smell her vanilla scented perfume, and saw her there smiling at him. This ghostly image of Christine was not afraid of his hideous disfigurement, but warmly accepted him and loved him. She giggled when he toyed with her long brown curly hair, and he couldn't help but giggle back. She was his everything, his very reason for being here.
"Still using our imagination I see." The vision of Christine vanished, and Erik fumed with embarrassment, and anger whipped around to see who dared to interrupt his fantasy. The lean and stern Mrs. Giry stood at his doorway, her hair wrapped in its usual intricate braids, and a smile plastered across her face.
"Ahh, of course it would be my big sister to ruin my dreams. What do you need Antoinette?" Erik could be ruthless to everyone in the world, except for two people: Christine- the love of his life, and his sister who protected him from the cruel world that would have chewed him up and spat him out.
"We need to speak about your student-your only student, Christine Daae." She glanced around at the cellar and all of its gloom. It smelt of 300 year old beer, and wondered how Christine could even stand being down here, let alone sing.
Erik removed his mask, the thing that covered his facial atrocity, for he was not afraid to show his true self in front of the only woman who loved him.
"What of her?"
Antoinette walked over to her brother, and saw the panic in his eyes, but she had to do what was best for Christine, her adopted daughter.
"The lessons must stop." She said and saw his eyes go from panic, to sadness, to rage, in a matter of seconds.
"Why do they need to stop? You have seen how well she has improved and-"
"It is not a matter of her voice Erik," she interrupted him mid sentence, and it was only she who was allowed to do such a thing, "I know how you are, and I can tell that she isn't only a student to you! Angel of Music, Erik? You are playing with her emotions! She honestly believes that you are an angel!"
"I am her angel! Her savior! DON'T YOU DARE TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME!" His voice turned into a growl, which even made Antoinette, who was usually very strong step back.
"I never knew you to be such an arrogant monster, and that is what you are Erik, a monster, letting her believe your lies, manipulating her. It's sickening."
Erik slid the porcelain white mask out of his pocket by which he placed it, and disguised himself once more.
"A monster am I? Look in the mirror sister, for it is you who has let the poor thing fall into my lap. You have known very well for the past 9 years, and yet you blame it all on me."
"That is when it was all innocent, but now I know that you want more of her than just her voice," she sighed, "my rule stands, you will hear no more of Christine Daae."
She turned away and left, making sure she had the final word in, but little does she know that it is always Erik who always has the final word.
"You will regret this sister." He whispered aloud before disappearing back into the shadows, for there is no way he will give up Christine.